


and never go home

by inlovewithnight



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optional, stand-alone coda to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/493132">not smashing windows</a>. Threesome PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and never go home

They spend the next day in the living room, watching HBO and eating doughnuts. Travie wipes chocolate smears down Mikey's chin and Gabe's wrists, everywhere he can reach. Gabe rolls his eyes and smacks Travie on top of the head. They lean against each other and watch Mikey try to lick his chin clean, eyes crossed and tongue poking out.

"You're not even close, M-Way," Travie says finally. "Get a napkin."

"Or you could help me." Mikey turns and puts his head in Gabe's lap, looking up at Travie. Gabe traces Mikey's eyebrows, wondering all over again at how Mikey turns this on and off, the flirty submissive thing he does with Travie. He still doesn't get it, but he likes to think it means something, that Mikey treats him like a friend even when they're fucking, while Travie gets a performance.

"I'm not licking your face clean." Travie makes a circle of his thumb and forefinger and flicks Mikey's forehead. "I'm not a cat."

"Mikeyway, sex kitten." Gabe rubs his thumb over Mikey's chin, wiping the chocolate away. 

"Can't I at least be a sex tiger?"

"No." Gabe gives in to impulse, even though it feels weird with Travie watching, bending down and pressing a kiss to Mikey's forehead. 

Mikey makes a noise that's maybe supposed to be either a growl or a purr--who the fuck can tell with him--and shifts in Gabe's lap, wiggling adroitly around until he can kiss Gabe's mouth. Gabe almost pulls back, he's _about_ to, but Travie's hand curves around the back of his head, holding him there gently.

"Stop thinking so damn much, Gabanti," he says softly. "Just kiss the boy."

Mikey's mouth curves into a smile against Gabe's. "Now is not the time for Little Mermaid, man."

"You guys..." Gabe sits up, shrugging off Travie's hand. "I don't..."

Mikey nods and sits up as well, brushing his hair back off his face. "Okay. Sorry."

"No, not...not I don't want to. I don't _know_."

Travie's voice is all low and coaxing and smooth, and Gabe _knows_ what he's doing, has heard him use that voice in clubs a hundred times. It's obvious enough that he should be insulted, but he still finds himself turning into the comfort of it. "Maybe try and find out?" 

"Try it, you'll like it? First one is free?" Gabe manages a laugh, weak and unsure, and boosts himself up onto the couch. He buries his face in his hands and makes himself breathe, slow in and out. "Fuck, man, I don't know how you do this shit."

"Gabey." Travie moves up to sit next to him and throws his arm around Gabe's shoulders, tugging him in close. "Man, we _like_ you, remember? Friends. That whole thing? If you don't like something, we'll just watch more TV. Nobody's going to be pissed at you."

"It's true." Mikey rests his chin on Gabe's knee, looking up at him with wide, unreadable eyes. "Eventually they'll switch over to porn."

"You should be in porn, Mikey." Gabe touches Mikey's chin, tracing his jaw. "That face."

Mikey leans into his touch, closing his eyes. "Do you want to?"

"Do I want to what?"

Travie laughs softly, resting his chin on Gabe's shoulder. "Kiss him, Saporta. He's asking you."

"Angle's bad." Gabe lets his hand drift up from Mikey's chin to his hair, coming the soft strands back. "Might hurt my neck."

"Whine, whine, whine." Mikey shakes his head and slides his palms up Gabe's thighs. "I could help you with that."

"Definitely should be in porn. Listen to you."

"Fuck you." Mikey's smiling, though, as he brings his hand over to trace Gabe's zipper. "Can I?"

Travie leans into Gabe harder, his body warm along the line of Gabe's side. "You want him, Gabey?"

"You guys are asking too many questions." Gabe licks his lips, trying to steady his heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Mikey grins, a smug little flash of victory, and undoes Gabe's fly, pushing the denim back and slipping his hand down under Gabe's briefs. Gabe sucks his breath in sharply as Mikey's fingers curve around his cock--god, Mikey's hands are _hot_ , what has he been doing down there?-- and guide it free. Gabe reaches out blindly, finding Travie's wrist and holding on, looking down through his lashes as Mikey exhales slow and warm against the skin of his thigh.

Mikey rubs his cheek against Gabe's dick and looks up at him with that same grin. "Still pretty good even with somebody watching, huh?"

"Shut up." Gabe laughs, breathless, the sound aching in his chest. "God, shut up, Mikey."

"More whining." Mikey shakes his head and lifts Gabe's dick, tongue darting out to lick along the underside. "Maybe I should blow Travie instead."

"You are a fucking tease."

Travie shifts his weight, leaning harder into Gabe for a minute and then settling himself on the couch, his leg hooking around Gabe's to hold him close. Gabe tears his gaze away from Mikey to look at him, and his breath stutters again as he realizes Travie's undoing his own fly.

"I think he was joking, man."

Mikey looks up, his tongue flat against the head of Gabe's cock. His eyes widen when he sees Travis guide his own dick out. "Maybe I wasn't."

"How the hell is that gonna work?" Gabe asks, but even as he says it, he knows, and his stomach twists with hot, helpless shock and anticipation as Mikey changes position on the floor, moving so he's kneeling with their tangled legs between his knees, their knees against his chest, angled so he can lean left and right to taste them both. 

"You're going to have a sore neck," Gabe has to point out. He can't help it, he is a jackass and totally missing the point of this moment but he can't help it. He can't breathe, either, the lack of oxygen to his brain is definitely part of the problem. Mikey fucking Way is kneeling at his feet, his dick is still wet from Mikey's mouth, and now Mikey's eyes are fluttering closed--fucking lashes against flushed cheeks, he _does_ look like he's in porn--to suck the head of Travie's dick into his mouth, and this is not Gabe's life, this is not anything he knows how to deal with.

Mikey pulls back off Travie slowly, a wet line of spit falling down his chin, and turns his head back to Gabe. Gabe chokes back a sound, gripping Travie's wrist tighter as Mikey takes him in his mouth, deep this time, all the way to the back of his throat. "Mikey," he says, his voice somewhere between a gasp and a whine. "Holy shit."

"Don't distract him," Travie mutters, stroking himself slowly with his free hand. He's watching Mikey's head move as he sucks Gabe's dick and makes soft little noises like he can't control himself. Gabe knows the feeling; he isn't sure how long he's going to last, with Mikey _doing_ that, and sounding like that, and Travie rightfuckingthere watching them.

And just as his stomach is tensing like he's going to lose it, Mikey pulls off him, _smirks_ at him, the little fuck, and turns back to Travie. He mouths at Travie's thigh and hip and the low part of his stomach, just where it meets the base of his dick. Gabe watches, his heart hammering in his ears and his breath hitching in his throat, the hand that isn't around Travie's wrist clutching blindly at the edge of the couch so he won't touch himself. Mikey's mouth is wet, spit-slick around the edges and down his chin, his lips bright red and swollen. Gabe sees a flash of his teeth, crooked and sharp, before he takes Travie in his mouth again.

Travie brings his hand to the back of Mikey's head, holding him in place, and Mikey moans, his eyes opening for a moment. His face is pressed hard to Travie's body and it should look awkward--it _does_ \--but it's gorgeous, too. Mikey is gorgeous, like this, giving up all his boundaries, losing himself in sex like he loses himself on the dance floor.

Something clicks in Gabe's head and he _gets_ it, all the way, instead of the almost-getting-it he's been grinding at for ages now. This is where Mikey can lose himself. Of course he chases it. He needs a place to put all that white noise in his head, too.

"Fuck, Mikey," Travie mutters, his voice so rough it's almost choked. Mikey pushes back against his hand and Travie lets go, lets him up to move back to Gabe again. Mikey takes the base of Gabe's cock this time, rubbing the head against his lips and looking up at Gabe with something hungry in his eyes.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," he says, and Gabe nods, digging his fingers into the couch again to steady himself as Mikey licks his lips and takes him in deep again. Gabe thrusts up, trying to find a rhythm, moving his hand to Mikey's shoulder after a moment to steady them both. Mikey gags on his next thrust, a tear slipping from his eye, and Gabe hisses in surprise and pain as he bumps Mikey's teeth. 

Gabe can hear Travie's hand moving on his dick, fast and tight. He meets Mikey's eyes and tries to mimic that rhythm, letting out a sharp noise as Mikey figures it out and they finally start moving together, tight wet heat around his cock, Mikey's chin sweaty and hot against his balls, his stomach tightening and twisting and finally the hot jolt along his nerves as he comes in Mikey's throat.

Mikey gags again, and swallows, then pulls back to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. His face is flushed, his glasses are askew, and his eyes are bright with unshed tears. He looks up at Gabe and smiles behind his hand, then turns toward Travie. "You want me to--" he starts to ask, his voice hoarse, but Travie's already gone, grunting softly and spilling jizz over his hand and his thigh.

Mikey makes a little noise and moves in to lick it up--fucking licking Travie clean, fucking hell--and Gabe has to close his eyes for a minute because it's too much. When he opens them again, Mikey's fumbling his hand down inside his own jeans.

"Get up here," Gabe says, reaching for him. Travie helps, and they haul Mikey up between them, turning him around to face forward. Gabe kisses him while Travie gets his jeans and boxers out of the way.

"You're something else, Mikey Way," Gabe says, pulling back and meeting his eyes. Mikey shakes his head, but he's smiling as he turns to kiss Travie. Gabe wraps his hand around Mikey's cock, stroking him slowly until Mikey kicks out at him. "And also rude."

Mikey tenses and arches up and comes before very long at all, and in unspoken agreement Travie and Gabe haul him down to the bedroom. Gabe thinks he could get used to this, the three of them lying in bed together, limbs tangled up and bodies overlapping. That's not something he ever expected to think even for a moment, and he knows it can't really ever happen. They're all heading in different directions, and getting used to this isn't an option. 

He watches Mikey's chest rise and fall, and how Travie's fingers rub slow, gentle circles over Mikey's shoulder. Mikey's face is utterly relaxed, at peace, and Gabe wishes he could take a picture, show Mikey that he isn't a vampire at all, he isn't taking a damn thing right now. They're sharing. Nobody's coming out at a loss.

Gabe knows that life is made up of winners and losers. If he isn't one, he's going to be the other, by his own standards and everyone else's, even if they're not honest about it. He's not giving up without a fight. But he hopes that winning doesn't mean never having little fractured miracles like this, moments out of the blue that don't make any sense and don't fit with the plan but that...mean something.

"I'll never forget this," he says out loud, testing the shape of the words in the air, if the thoughts stay real in his head once he's said them.

Mikey just smiles. Travie laughs, low and warm.

"I fucking hope not. Shit. If you forgot that I'd think you've gotta be a robot."

"Robots don't forget anything," Mikey corrects him, turning over slowly onto his stomach. "Computer brains."

"Go to sleep, Way." Travie slings his arm across Mikey's back, his fingers brushing Gabe's arm. "If you start overthinking this, Gabanti, I'm going to kick your ass right out that window and you can see if you can fly."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabe lies back and closes his eyes, feeling Mikey's warmth along his side and Travie's fingertips against his arm. He can't help overthinking, it's how his brain works. Breaking everything down into smaller patterns and larger possibilities. He likes the patterns and the possibilities he's seeing here, though. They say good things.

Maybe he'll fall asleep now and save the overthinking for tomorrow.


End file.
